The Magnificent Showboats Read Free Page A

way against the current, and Zamp was forced to anchor overnight in mid-stream.
    In the morning the monsoon again blew steady and sent the boat plunging through the water. At noon the lookout spied Gotpang Bump on the horizon, and presently Gotpang Town: a crusty efflorescence of stone huts up the steep stone sides of the Bump. A stone wall around the summit enclosed a stone cloister half-hidden in an ancient orchard of madura orange trees. Here was housed that fraternity of cenobites known as the Actuarians, who fixed the local terms of birth and death. Zamp had played Gotpang ten years previously to no great financial advantage, and since had passed it by. Today he had the choice of putting into Gotpang and performing possibly for small profit, or anchoring again in mid-stream with no profit whatever. Zamp decided to stop at Gotpang.
    He refreshed his memory from the River Index and was advised to make no reference to disease, accident or death, nor to suggest that birth could be achieved other than through the cooperation of an Actuarian.
    At the base of the Bump a jetty enclosed a snug little harbor; the flat to the back provided space for a pair of warehouses, three taverns and a small market-place. Already at the dock, to Zamp’s annoyance, was the Two Varminies , operated by a certain Osso Santelmus, who presented what Zamp considered a rather paltry program of slapstick farce, animal acts and a minstrel who sang ballads to the accompaniment of a guitar. Santelmus augmented his income with games of chance, the sale of tonics, lotions and salves, and a booth where he foretold the future.
    Zamp glumly ordered Miraldra’s Enchantment to the dock. Neither boat would destroy the custom of the other; indeed, a pair of boats in competition often augmented trade for both. Zamp felt assured that such would not be the case at Gotpang.
    As soon as his boat was secure, Zamp, as etiquette demanded, went aboard the Two Varminies to pay his respects to Osso Santelmus. The two sat down to a bottle of brandy in the after cabin.
    Santelmus had nothing good to remark about either Gotpang or the Actuarians. “Every year they impose three new ordinances. I learn now that I cannot advertise my ‘Miracle Bath’ as a sure elixir of charm and beauty, nor may I foretell the future unless I first obtain an approved forecast from their Bureau of Schedules.”
    Zamp shook his head in disgust. “Petty officials are always anxious to justify their existences.”
    “True. Nonetheless, I mute my complaints. Experience has taught me the defense against pettifoggery. I now offer my ‘Miracle Bath’ only as a soothing lotion, with mildly laxative qualities if taken internally. In my booth I command voices of the dead, and I achieve approximately equal earnings. But let us speak of a more elevating subject. How do you rate your chances at Mornune?”
    Zamp stared, blue eyes wide in wonder. “My chances where?”
    Santelmus poured more brandy. “Come now, my friend; between the two of us evasiveness surely is out of order. I too am bound for Lanteen, but I doubt if my entertainments, diverting though they may be, will enthrall King Waldemar’s emissary. The choice, I suspect, lies between yourself and Garth Ashgale.”
    Zamp said: “I have no idea of what you are talking about.”
    Now it was Santelmus’s turn to stare in wonder. “Surely you received notice of the great occasion? It was announced at the Coble conclave not a month ago!”
    “I did not attend the conclave.”
    “True! Now I recall as much. Garth Ashgale volunteered to convey the information to you.”
    Zamp set his goblet down with a thump. “Just as the vulp* in the fable volunteered to notify the farmer of the break in the fowl-yard fence.”
* Vulp: a small voracious predator, common throughout the Dalkenberg region of south-central Lune XXIII.
    “Aha,” said Santelmus, “Ashgale evidently failed to bring you the news?”
    “All I saw of Ashgale was the stern of his